It's not quite true to say Philip Prowse throws everything he's got at his last official production after 30-odd years at the Citizens' Theatre, but he certainly plays a strong hand. He begins with a spray of silver fireworks: a celebratory and flamboyant touch that characterises the cheeky sparkle he has brought to this venue. It's also an ironic counterpoint to the angst and intensity of the evening to come.
He peoples the stage with what can only be described as the Prowse all-stars: actors who have worked with him over the years, all dressed sumptuously in his trademark black, white and red.
And what a stage they walk on. Spilling out into the stalls, this is a vision of Venice tottering on wooden boardwalks over oily black water. Three upstage doorways, carved out of a towering wall of flickering candles, make every entrance a grand one and bring a painterly symmetry to the scene. This is a world where opulence and degradation sit side by side, where men in outrageously lavish gowns might at any minute be sucked into the gloomy abyss below.
Which is as things should be in Venice Preserved, Thomas Otway's ambivalent 1682 revenge tragedy where those threatening to overthrow the state are driven by motives as questionable as those in power. The brilliance of Greg Hicks's performance as the easily swayed Jaffeir, caught between sacrificing his wife and betraying his best friend, is that he makes you feel the pain of his dilemma - even though it has been brought about by his own rash behaviour.
Like the other central performances - by Simon Dutton, as his co-conspirator Pierre, and Sophie Ward, as his wife Belvidera - Hicks's interpretation is tough and relentless. So speedy and intense are the exchanges that they leave no space fordistraction: all that matters is the passion of the moment. If at the start of the play it can be an effort to keep up, by the end, it is nothing less than compelling.
Spiked with ribald overtones of sexual perversion, political corruption and folly, this Venice Preserved fully justifies Prowse's reputation as the master of tough, poised, larger-than-life panache.
· Until October 11. Box office: 0141-429 0022.
